All posts by bfiggefox
Melissa Harris-Lacewell on White Privilege & the Nobel Prize
I encourage my friends and readers to calm down a little about having to prove Obama deserved the Nobel Peace Prize. Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. The point is that he has it now….
Bridge Doctor Mistras Floats IPO
In August I recognized a license plate, ‘MISTRAS,’ in the McCaffrey’s parking lot and figured it had to belong to Sotirios Vahaviolos, who has a company on Clarksville Road, Mistras Holdings. Indeed it was, and we had a chat. I hadn’t spoken to him since U.S. 1 did a cover story on his company in 2002.
Adirondack Dory on Carnegie Lake
By chance, also yesterday, I fetched up next to John Guthrie of IsisGlobal (a competitive intelligence firm in Pennington) at Princeton University’s Keller Center lecture featuring Stuart Essig, CEO of Integra Life Sciences. We enjoyed comparing notes on “messing around in boats” as Rattie so famously said in Wind in the Willows. Turns out Guthrie makes regular treks to a private Adirondack lake and also has a lightweight boat, though from a different maker.
Buttercup is perfect for us. We like to row, but ordinary rowboats are heavy to heft, and the Adirondack Dory is like a canoe with oarlocks. It’s light (80 pounds, Kevlar and graphite, we can lift it off the trailer) and is painstakingly crafted, with cherry wood gunnels fold-down cane seatbacks. Look for her on Carnegie Lake!
Fort Knox for Paper, Inside Story
Intellectual property mavens take note: Just about the time the Froehlich family opened Docusafe, an entrepreneur in Madison, Wisconsin, opened the same kind of company under that name and also opened one in Phoenix, Arizona. (INCORRECT STATEMENT: ICANN, which assigns web pages, was confused and assigned the same URL, http://www.docusafe.com/, to all three locations. It turns out, thanks to somebody who read this and commented, that ICANN did not do that. The Wisconsin/Arizona folks always had www.docusafe.net. See comments below.)
You’d think there would have been a court battle, but in this case reason, courtesy – and practicality – prevailed.
After the ensuing confusion, the two firms worked it out. The Froehlichs had legal rights to the name.
Each markets their own company, and when a customer from the wrong location lands at their door, why of course, they provide the referral.
It helps that document storage is a business that doesn’t travel well.
NPR Reporter Barbara Bradley Hagerty Today
Sunday Morning Musings: 7 Lean Years?
This morning I’m teaching part of the story of Joseph, Genesis 42 to 47. to 4th and 5th graders at my church. What fabulous drama! Joseph, the favorite son, having been sold by his brothers into slavery, fetches up in Egypt, where Pharaoh pays attention to Joseph’s prescient dreams predicting seven years of plenty and seven lean years and accumulates vast stores of grain. When Joseph’s brothers come to him (not recognizing him) to buy grain, Joseph tricks them but forgives them, the point of the story being that it all worked out according to God’s plan to fulfill his promise to Abraham.
The forgiving part of this story is what I am to teach today. But what also stays with me, after reading this drama, is the story of the seven years of plenty and the seven lean years. Because of Joseph’s dreams, Pharaoh has stored plenty of grain and can sell it to keep nearby nations from starving. I’d forgotten the part about how Pharaoh, through Joseph, also buys up the Egyptian livestock, land, and even the Egyptian people themselves, making them slaves.
The very next thing I look at is Glenmede’s emailed economic report from Gordon Fowler, “How High is Up?” (Glenmede has its Princeton office on Chambers Street.) He makes his predictions in a Q&A; format and ends with the conclusion, paraphrased by me, that the world’s central banks are engineering another asset bubble using government debt rather than consumer and financial company debt.
Are we in the first of seven lean years? Are we going to end up selling the equivalent of our land and our livestock? Where is the Joseph of today who will assure the future of our grandchildren?
I dunno. If, as the book of Genesis says, God saw to it that Joseph ended up in Egypt so he could save his people, then maybe I just need to have faith that it will all work out.
But just in case I’m supposed to be proactive, I’m going to read Fowler’s report more carefully, later. Right now I’m having fun figuring out how to take a piece of heavy duty aluminum foil and mold it into Joseph’s silver cup.
Enthusiasm — Contagious?
Get Paid to Cut BTUs Part II
Sufjan Stevens: Blessed Are the Meek
“Presence” is a slippery thing to define. Participants in Eileen Sinett’s Speaking4Biz workshop last month described it, alternatively, as a posture, a sense of confidence, an aura, an energy, a “look,” many ways of attracting approval. We agreed that celebrities – those who have been adored by the masses for a long time – accumulate a kind of electric field around themselves, so that you somehow “know” when they pass by.
But I always thought that “presence” required a regal look or at least erect posture.
Then I went with a young friend, photographer Stephanie F Black, to hear Sufjan Stevens, an eclectic singer-song writer whose folk/rock sometimes has a spiritual tinge and often has symphonic proportions. He played a small club in Philly, the first night of a two week tour with a group called Cryptacize, and no, even if I had posted this blog right away you couldn’t have gotten tickets because the tour sold out instantly; he has a cult following.
Self-effacing is not too strong a word for Stevens. His own group is a regular at big venues like the Brooklyn Academy of Music, but in the chapel at Princeton Theological Seminary last spring, he had “played in” with the Welcome Wagon, a group led by Rev. Thomas Vito Aiuto, a seminary alum who records on Stevens’ “Asthmatic Kitty” record label, and Stevens just blended in with the woodwork.
In Philly at Johnny Brenda’s, Stevens had two brass, two guitar, two keyboards, a singer, and dozens of footpedals all crammed onto the tiny stage. Stevens’ “presence” electrified the 150 screaming fans, waving and yelling for all they were worth.
He went from a deeply affecting Appalachian-style solo ballads, with banjo, to rhythmically dense blow-outs with Stravinsky-like orgiastic dissonance, all held together by an intricate and persistently driving rhythm. Stevens has a stupendous musical intelligence, and his musicians were amazing, especially the trumpet player and the drummer. I’m now a total fan.
Yet his “presence” embodied, not regal, but reticence. Far from being erect, his body was an S curve, and he had a Tony Perkins-like vulnerability.
I felt like going backstage to give him a Pilates lesson in how to stand tall. But, if “the body doesn’t lie.” as Martha Graham used to say, maybe his humble stance is part and parcel of his music, his charm. Sufjan Stevens has a presence (shall I say a quiet spirituality?) all his own.
Photo by Stephanie F. Black






